Où des Mots de Mort Attendent
by doritoFace1q
Summary: A black notebook falling from the sky brings to light things that may previously have remained buried. But what nobody realized was that this story had already started. . . much sooner than anyone had ever thought. fem!L
1. Prologue

**WE BACK WITH MORE DEATH NOTE, SONS.**

**The plot will be following the main plot of Death Note, but there will be a lot of elements from KuroS in it as well, and there will be a load of headcanons, too :)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The wind never slowed above – relentless, it blew, rustling the dead grass that persisted in odd corners, shifting the bones that lay throughout the grey landscape, making them rattle against each other in a hollow melody. Dust blew through the air, sparkling in the dim light of the realm as it blew past the occupants of the world, slumped where they sat, monstrous bodies limp where they lay. Other hulking forms wandered the world aimlessly, dragging their feet through the punishingly sharp stones that littered the ground, and those that remained would hunch down in their little groups, rattling dice carved from rocks and bones, pushing various mementos back and forth – a shiny rock there, a strangely-shaped bit of bone here.

In other words, it was boring.

Greasy strands of black hair rustled as the non-stop breeze blew by again, and long, black-clawed fingers reached up, pushing them away from red-ringed, yellow eyes. "What a bore," the creature rasped, tongue flicking out over cracked, dry black lips. "Day in, day out. . . how is it that humans say? _Lame_."

"Nothing to be done," another voice said, and the first figure turned his head slightly, tucking his patchworked hands into the pockets of his ragged leather pants. "They are only that, after all: human."

The second figure unfolded herself slowly from where she'd been laying on the ground, curled up like a cat. Her white skin, hair, and clothes provided a welcome reprieve from the dreary, monochrome landscape around them. She reached up, brushing purple-tipped, chalky white locks away from her colorless face with a skeletal, taloned hand as she walked towards him, sheer cloak fluttering behind her filled with holes. "Yet you watch them," she said, moving to stand next to the other figure as he stared down through a hole in the ground, the barest amount of light shining through it, making their clammy skin seem warm, full of life.

He cackled. "I'm not the only one, eh, Rem?" he ran a hand through her hair, claws scraping her scalp, and she jerked away, making an irritated noise.

"I watch _one_," she hissed. "And don't make such _human_ actions towards me – I'm not one of those mortal women you can charm into giving you their years."

"Of course," he purred smoothly, but his voice didn't match his sneer. "Although I wouldn't be so sure about that; you've spent so much time mooning over that – what was the word you used? Mortal?" Rem snarled, and he took a step away, raising his hands. "I'm just saying, dear friend. You've been neglecting your duties. Better pick it up before you become just like her – and _him_."

"I have no _friends_," Rem hissed. "And it's not as if you have much room to speak when it comes to our duties, Ryuk. I've seen no sign of you working, or so much as write a word in the past days – no, _weeks_." Her gaze flicked to the chain hanging from his belt, decorated with a single heart pendant. "Where is your notebook?" Her hand drifted to cover the black journal hanging from her own hip.

"Ah, yeah," Ryuk tilted his head, scratching his chin, though there was no stubble to be found. "About that," he snickered. "I lost it."

Rem's eyes widened, purple lips falling open in a perfect O as her jaw dropped. "You _what?_" she spoke quietly, near a whisper.

"I lost it," he shrugged. "Dropped it."

"You – how could you _do_ that?" Rem seized him around the neck, dragging the taller of the two down so that they were eye-to-eye. "You realize what you have done?" she hissed, claws tightening around his throat. "You have doomed yourself, you fool!"

"Aw," Ryuk snickered, grabbing Rem's hand. She glowered at him as he squeezed it, forcing it away. "No need to worry, dearest," he patted her on the cheek, letting his fingers brush over the bandage wrapped over one eye. "I know exactly where it is."

Rem glared at him as she jerked her hand away. "Fool," she repeated. "That's not loss, that's laziness."

"Not quite, lovely," Ryuk commented, striding over to stand at the edge of the hole, looking down, bathing himself once more in the light. "See, I know where it is, but it's kinda in a tough-to-reach place. . ."

"Speak plainly, for once," Rem snapped. "You're not a child, not by a long shot – stop acting like one."

"You wound me!" Ryuk pressed a hand to his chest. "Why, my skin's as soft as a baby's bottom!"

"A dead one."

"Ouch," Ryuk turned to look back at the hole. "Very well, sweet," he sighed. "I dropped it," he pointed down into the hole. "There."

Rem's eyes widened to the point where Ryuk seriously began worrying that they'd roll from their sockets. "You. . ." she sounded truly frightened, fists clenching. "You dropped your Death Note," she finally said. "You dropped your Death Note into the human world."

"Why, yes!" Ryuk clasped his hands with a grin. "Who'd have thought?"

Rem backed away, shaking her head. "You're a true fool," she said. "You're going to get it back, aren't you?"

"Well. . ." Ryuk drawled, crouching into a squat next to the hole, peering over the edge. "I would, see, but there's a slight problem with that plan."

"Don't tell me –" Rem began.

"Yup," Ryuk said. "Going, going. . . gone!"

"Fool," Rem repeated, glaring at him, one visible eye glowing. "You realize what's going to happen?"

"Chaos, bloodshed, destruction, abject misery," Ryuk counted on his fingers, grinning.

"Stop yourself!" Rem shouted. "You have no idea what you've done –"

"Oh, on the contrary, love, I know _exactly_ what I've done."

"Which is?"

Ryuk grinned, teeth glinting in the light from the hole. "I'm about to have some fun, aren't I?"

Rem glared at him before turning away, stone-faced. "Do what you will," she hissed. "But I'll have no part in it."

Ryuk cackled as she stepped away, back arching. He grit his teeth, and, with a hiss, stiffened. Two dark blue appendages burst from his back – wings, like those of a massive, sickly crow, feather rustling in the ever-present breeze. The Shinigami flapped them once, twice, rising into the air and plunging into the hole, his last cackle echoing through the empty air.

Rem stood still, watching as the sunlight streaming into the dark, dismal realm flickered, overtaken by clouds. She stepped closer to the edge, looking down as rain began pouring onto the realm below.

"Do what you will," she repeated quietly, though there was no one left to hear her – and, if anybody _was_ they certainly wouldn't know, or care, about what she was talking about. "But I will have no part in it." Her own wings unfurled from her back, bones clacking as they snapped into place behind her, pale mesh stretched between the bones, not unlike her cloak. She flapped them, rising into the air. "And neither will she."


	2. Chapter 1: 40

Light's eyes drifted over the classroom as the teacher droned on and on about some Bible verse. His eyes drifted over the class as he listened, scowling slightly at his other classmates. _Honestly I don't care if you play video games during class and potentially fail the course. But could you at least turn the sound down?_

He placed his cheek against his hand as he glanced out the window, through which sunlight flickered into the dreary classroom. _Same old, same old_.

"Light," the teacher's voice snapped him out of his reverie, and he glanced to the front of the room. "Care to read the next passage?"

"Yes, sir," Light stood dutifully, picking up the book. The English words flowed smoothly off his tongue, and the teacher nodded when he was done.

"Excellent work, as always," he said. "Now, if we observe the usage of the verbs. . ."

Light tuned the chatter in the room out as he looked back out the window. _Why bother?_ He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

The bell rang and everybody stood up in a synchronized scraping of chairs and clamor of pens and books being shoved into bags. "Make sure to read the assigned pages," the teacher called as Light swung the bag over his shoulder. "I want a page of explaining the synopsis of the text by Tuesday!"

Light supressed a yawn as he pulled on his blazer. _Cram school tonight,_ he thought, swinging his bag over his shoulder. _And then there's homework after that_. . . he groaned inwardly. _Looks like no sleep tonight, either_.

"Um, Light?"

"Hm?" he glanced over his shoulder. "Oh, hey, Hideko."

The girl nodded, looking nervous. "Hey!" she giggled slightly, tucking her hair over her ear. "So, listen. . ." she glanced over her shoulder to where two girls were standing by the door, chatting, and definitely not watching the two of them. "Can you help me out with my English work? It's just that you're so good at it, and I'm having a lot of trouble –"

"No problem," Light smiled. "Do you want me to come over sometime?" He did a mental search through his calendar. "Monday?"

Hideko nodded vigorously. "Okay! Thanks! I'll text you my address?"

"Sure," Light kept his smile on as she rushed to her friends. The squeal echoed down the hall and he rolled his eyes, moving to leave the room.

_What the –_

He frowned, pausing and glancing out the window. There, in the centre of the courtyard, was a black notebook, lying on the ground. A black notebook that Light was certain had _not_ been there a second ago – he knew this because he'd been looking out the exact window for most of the class.

It was still there when Light left the building, and he knelt, picking it up. A wave of goosebumps suddenly washed over him, and he shivered as a cool breeze blew by. _Winter's coming, I guess_. He turned it over, looking at the cover.

_Death Note_.

"What the hell?" he muttered out loud, flipping it back over. "Death Note?" _Is this some emo's dark poetry journal or something?_

He glanced around a few more times. Nobody had come up to him when he picked up the notebook, and, even now, people were milling around, on their way home, as if nothing had happened, seemingly believing that the notebook belonged to Light. He frowned, debating for a moment, before tucking the journal in his bag and walking off school grounds.

The notebook weighed on his mind as he stood by the train tracks, waiting for the barriers to lift. Even though he knew it was still there, he felt a constant urge to glance into his bag, making sure the black journal was still there, tucked between his math notebook and English textbook. It was like an ever-looming neon sign bouncing over his bag, in the brightest colors known to man, flashing and screaming '_I exist! Notice me!_' Indeed, the pull was so strong he found himself wondering _how_ the other pedestrians walking by his side could ignore its temptation – really, shouldn't they all be crowding him right now, shoving each other aside to stare into his schoolbag, ogling at the unassuming diary.

Finally, his will gave away and he reached into the bag. He gave himself the opportunity to examine the cover with more detail – the letters were seemingly etched into the cover, colored white, and seemed to shine slightly in the setting sun. He flipped the thin, cracked leather cover open. The first page was just as black as the binding, and decorated with a gothic border and an illustration of a skull.

_The human whose name is written in this note shall die_.

Light scoffed as he snapped the notebook shut, sticking it back in his bag. _That's sick_. He shook his head as he continued up the street towards his house, pushing open the gate as he pulled out his keys. _And really bad poetry_.

Sachiko was standing in the front hall as Light entered the house. "Light, dear," she smiled.

"Hey, Mom," Light nodded, pulling the door shut. He glanced at her outstretched hands. "Oh, right," he put his bag down, pulling out a sheet of paper folded up at the bottom.

"Oh, Light!" she exclaimed as Light slipped on a pair of slippers. "Number one, again! How nice!"

"Yeah," Light said. "I'll be in my room, okay?"

He stumbled over a baseball bat in the hallways and bit back a curse as he tripped over it, steadying himself against the wall. "Sayu!" he called, picking it up. "Sayu, pick up your stuff!" He rolled his eyes when he received no reply, propping the bat up next to her bedroom door, nudging the cap and glove that had been lying next to it to the wall.

He closed the door of his own room with a small sigh, taking off his school blazer and hanging it up on the back of his door. He sat down at his desk, resting his bag on the ground next to it, taking out his books and putting them on his desk.

He picked up a pen that'd been lying on the edge of his desk and paused as he made to open his English book. His gaze fell back onto the black notebook at the bottom of the pile, and he slowly put his highlighter back down, the niggle returning to the back of his mind.

He sighed as he shoved his other books away, opening the thin black journal again.

_The human whose name is written in this note shall die._

_ The note will not take effect unless the writer has the person's face in their mind when writing their name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected._

_ If the cause of death is written within 40 seconds of writing the person's name, then it will happen._

_ If the cause of death is not specified, the person will simply die of a heart attack._

_ After writing the cause of death, details of the death should be written within the next 6 minutes and 40 seconds._

Light rolled his eyes as he shut the book again. _Ridiculous_. He shoved it into the corner of his desk, leaning back in his chair. _Just another sick joke, like one of those chain emails – "pass this on in the next five minutes or else the creepy girl will crawl out of your drain and kill you"._ He sat in silence for another minute before he realized he'd done nothing, and grabbed the remote for the TV in the corner of the room. He flicked it on to the news channel and stared at it for a few moments, watching as the cheery anchor prattled on about some charity event happening in the next week.

He sat up straighter as the image suddenly changed, showing a group of riot police standing around a daycare centre. "_We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to bring you this emergency broadcast,_" the newscaster, an anxious-looking, dark-haired man said. "_I'm here in front of Onadaowo Daycare Centre, where a gunman has taken three teachers and eighteen children hostage._"

Light watched as the man continued to speak, and a picture of the man appeared on the screen. "_The suspect's name is Kurou Otoharada_," the man said.

Light's gaze was drawn back to the notebook and, without thinking, he dragged it closer to him, picking up his pencil and clicking it –

He dropped it, staring at the lead snapped off on the desk. _What am I doing?_ his heart pounded as he stared at the notebook. _Don't be ridiculous. It's just a normal notebook that some sick freak decided to turn into a –_

He frowned. _A what? Murder weapon?_ He shook his head. _For all I know, it could just be some journal bought on sale from Seiyu, covered with paint_.

_But if there's a chance_. . .

He shook his head again, harder, this time, and shoved the notebook away. _Quit it!_ he chided himself. _That thing's just weird_. He nudged his pencil with his finger, watching as it rolled off his desk, landing on the ground. _Don't think about it,_ he thought, turning his gaze back to the TV. _That's how people get obsessed – and look how well it turns out for them_.

There were sudden bangs from the TV, and he jumped a bit in his seat, turning to look at the screen. "_Shots have just sounded from within the building!_" the newscaster reported as the riot police began charging forwards, plastic shields held up in front of them. "_We don't know if anybody has been injured! The police are moving in right now!_"

Light's eyes narrowed. _Screw it_.

He leaned over, snatching up the pencil from the ground and flipping open the notebook. He looked back up at the TV, fixing the man's droopy face, eyebags, and pallid skin in his mind. His pencil scratched against the paper – completely normal paper, nothing weird about it – as he wrote down the name.

_音原田_ _九郎__._

He sighed, leaning back in his chair, looking at the TV with shadowed eyes. The ticking of the hand on his watch suddenly seemed so much louder, echoing in the room, in his head, as the seconds moved by, sluggish, but, somehow, faster than ever.

Light shook his head after forty seconds had passed. _See?_ He ran a hand through his hair, letting the caramel locks fall over his forehead. _It's just a dumb prank. Now you can chuck the thing –_

"_Hold on!_" the newscaster said as a man rushed up to him, whispering in his ear. "_We've got reports from inside – what?_" his jaw dropped.

Light straightened, heart pounding furiously. _No way_.

"_I – I can't believe this!_" the man turned back to the camera. "_Ladies and gentlemen, Otoharada is dead!_"

Light's head spun, entire body burning with – what? Shame? Shock? Humiliation? He felt as if he'd been torn from his body, but was still locked in, not feeling, yet feeling everything.

He stood suddenly, pulling out a spring jacket and grabbing his bag, shoving the Death Note deep into it.

"Mom!" he called as he rushed down the stairs, pulling the bag over his shoulder. "I'm heading out!"

xxx

He paused as a ripple passed through the air and space around him, movements faltering slightly.

His companion glanced up from her laptop. "Problem?"

He shook his head, ignoring the way the hair stood up on the back of his neck. "No," he said, shaking his head. "No, nothing at all."

* * *

**Weird people? wHo cOulD tHeY bE?**


	3. Chapter 2: Hurricane

**THE PAPA PO-POS HAVE ENTERED THE RING.**

* * *

"Dead from a heart attack after firing a round of bullets to get the hostages to quiet down," Soichiro read, brow furrowed. "Quite the lucky coincidence."

Aizawa nodded. "That's all that came from the coroner's report," he said. "Doesn't look like there was anything suspicious about it."

"Have they ruled out the possibility of a suicide?" Soichiro asked, passing the paper back.

"Doesn't look like it," Aizawa replied, sitting down and grabbing a cigarette. He brought it to his lips, flicking on his lighter. "They do think it's weird, though. He looked perfectly healthy – well, aside from the fact that he was dead – when they opened him up. Completely unexpected. Like his heart just decided 'nope!' and quit."

"Hm," Soichiro frowned. "Well, I suppose there's nothing we can do about it."

"Best not worry, then," Aizawa said, blowing a smoke ring.

"Yes, I suppose."

xxx

Light moved slowly through the aisles of the store, eyes wandering, unseeing over the rows and rows of packaged preservatives. His mind turned back to the events that had happened earlier that day as he reached out, putting two bags of consommé chips in the basket.

_Did I hear that right? It couldn't have _actually_ worked, could it?_

He shook his head for what felt like the umpteenth time that day as he piled up Sayu's favourite instant kimchi noodles. _Don't be ridiculous_. He dropped a few cans of soda into the bag. _Coincidences happen_.

He stopped by the window, picking up a magazine at random and flipping through the pages at random. _He was a nutcase with a gun, storming a daycare surrounded by riot police with rifles and plastic shields_, he thought, glancing over the weak plot and poor artwork of the manga on the pages. _Honestly, I'd be surprised if he _wasn't_ feeling stressed_.

The tired-looking cashier nodded at him as he set the basket full of future heart disease on the counter, ringing him up. "Have a nice night," he said as he bagged the food, handing it to Light with his change.

"Yeah, you too," Light nodded, dropping a few coins into the tip jar. He sighed as he stepped outside, taking a deep breath of the night air. The street was empty, save for him, a young woman giggling into her phone as she crossed the street, and a black cat padding down the sidewalk. _Just a coincidence_, he thought. _You're thinking irrationally, connecting things that don't have any business with each other, because it's convenient_. He shook his head with a small chuckle. _You've been watching too much of those dramas with Sayu. Things like this just don't happen in real life_.

He raised his wrist, glancing at the time. He cursed himself. _I've been out longer than I thought_. He tucked his wallet back into his bag.

He stiffened slightly as his fingers brushed the leathery cover of the Death Note. He drew his hand back as if he'd been shocked. _Get it together_, he thought, shaking his head. _Just throw the thing away, already. It's a distraction – and a morbid as hell one, at that – and you've got better things to worry about than _–

"Well, boys, lookie what we've got here!"

Light looked up, but the pompous, greasy voice hadn't been directed at him. While he'd been locked in thought, a group of motorcyclists had come down the street, surrounding the young woman.

"Uh –" she stepped back, but stiffened as the back of her leg brushed one of their wheels. "Sorry, but I'm really not interested."

"Aw, come on, sweetheart!" The man Light assumed was in the lead lowered his sunglasses (what a douche – who wore sunglasses at _night_?), leering at the woman. "Why don't you want to hang with us? We could show you some real fun?" He leaned closer, and the girl cringed away from his breath. "The name's Taku – Takuo Shibuimaru. But you can call me Cool Taku." His friends cackled, as if he'd just told some amazing joke.

Light narrowed his eyes as he moved back ever so slightly, out of the streetlight, reaching into his bag. He stopped as his fingertips brushed against a pencil._ What am I doing?_

"Oh, looks like someone's shy!" another man leaned over the girl's shoulder, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. "Come on, babe, don't be scared! We just wanna let loose for a bit!"

"No, seriously, I really don't want to – hey, let go!"

A man had grabbed her shoulder, pulling her close. "Mm, he sneered as he buried his nose in her hair. "Sweet as you are, honey-boo."

"Piss off!" she grabbed his face, shoving him roughly away. She'd barely made it two steps away before the first man had grabbed her, holding a crowbar under her chin to keep her still. "Let go!" She screamed, slamming her fist on the man's head, but only managed to make herself scream ever louder as her hand encountered the hard motorcycle helmet. Shibuimaru laughed as he reached for the button of her jeans.

Light's gaze burned into the men's backs with such fury that he was almost certain that they should be able to feel it. He flipped the notebook open, pencil scratching as he wrote down the man's name, on the line right beneath Otoharada's.

_渋井丸_ _拓男_.

And, after a moment of thought, he added two words after it.

_Traffic accident_.

He held his breath as he counted the seconds, holding his finger over the _Call_ button on his phone.

_Tick-tock_.

_ Forty seconds_, he thought to himself. _Forty seconds, and, if nothing happens, I'll call the police_.

_Tick-tock_.

_But if I'm wrong_. . .

_Tick_.

The woman shouted as she brought her fist down on the groin of the man holding her, foot shooting out to kick Shibuimaru where he would feel it. She stumbled as she raced away, grabbing at her jacket, dropping her phone and purse on the ground, one of her shoes being kicked off as she ran across the street.

Light's heart was ready to burst from his chest as he dodged to the side, ducking into an alleyway, breath coming short and fast, as if he was the one running, rather than the woman. _No way_.

"Hey, get her!"

"That skank!"

"Don't let her get away –!"

Shibuimaru's final statement was cut off by a loud screeching noise, and Light squeezed his eyes shut as the crash rang throughout the street.

"Taku!"

"Oh, my god!"

"Taku! He's dead!"

Light, shaking from head to toe, gripping the wall with a shaky hand, peered slowly around the corner to look at the street.

The girl was holding herself on the sidewalk, crying as the store's cashier rushed out, jaw dropping in horror at the sigh before him. The motorcyclists were in a frenzy, shouting, circling around the centre of the street, where Takuo Shibuimaru's crushed body lay, skeleton smashed, bike crushed, the tire tracks of the truck that had ended his life still imprinted in the gore, red fading, pouring into the sewers, as the first drops of rain began to fall.

xxx

Ryuk tossed the apple up and down, catching it every time it fell. He turned it around, watching the light bounce off the dark red skin, claws digging into the fruit. He took a bite out of the fruit, and, with a small, satisfied, sigh, swallowed.

He chucked the rest of the fruit over his shoulder, leaning back on the roof of the building, looking up at the stars twinkling in the sky, shining through the weak clouds and rainfall. _Humans actually believe _those_ things determine their fate?_ He snorted, crossing his arms and swinging his legs as he bent forwards, glancing off the side of the building. A small smirk formed over his black lips. _Pathetic_.

The _pitter-patter_ of the rain grew louder, and the drops themselves heavier, as he stood stretching his arms over his head, wincing as he felt the muscles in his back pop. "Ah, that's the stuff," he groaned, tossing his head back.

He chuckled as he bounced a few times on the balls of his feet, looking down into the alley between the building he stood on and the next. _Well, well, Light Yagami_. . .

_Time to play_.

* * *

**Song title came from the song _Hurricane_, from Death Note the Musical. Listen to it. It's good.**


	4. Chapter 3: Justice

**Alternatively: in which Sachiko's been standing outside Light's door for half an hour and Hideko was ditched.**

**Search up Ryuk's original design. You'll thank me.**

* * *

"How many has it been now?"

_Snip_. Another dark strand of hair drifted to the ground.

"Three hundred," the man replied, slender silver scissors drifting to another strand of hair, held between two gloved fingers. "And twelve. Exactly."

The girl hummed, fingers flying across the keyboard of the sticker-covered laptop nestled on top of her crossed legs. "Heart attacks, all of them," she muttered as another tuft of inky black landed on the wood-paneled ground. "Over three hundred deaths in just three days. All known criminals, either wanted or in prison. The chances of this being a coincidence are. . ." she paused for a second, running calculations in her mind. "Less than two percent."

"And you haven't addressed it yet," the man mused, laying the scissors down and running his fingers through the girl's hair.

"I can't," she said. "Not until it's been brought to the public's attention."

The man hummed, placing both hands on top of her head as he looked down at the laptop screen. "The public's attention," he stated drily as she scrolled down the forum. "Because the two million people on that site are all cavemen."

She swatted at a strand of the man's hair hanging in front of the screen irritably. "You know what I mean."

"Apparently, you're going to have to elaborate."

"The _police_, fool," she rolled her eyes.

The man hummed as he gave her hair a final ruffle, offering her a hand. "Waiting again?"

"As always," she replied, taking his hand and standing smoothly.

"You're giving him the upper hand," the man mused as she swung her arms lazily. "How will –"

"Soon," she promised, hopping nimbly up onto the couch next to him. "They're not so dim that they would let this go on for so long. Trust me, they'll move soon."

"Very well." He nodded, standing up. "Is there anything else you need me to do?"

Wordlessly, she pointed at the strands of cut hair scattered over the newspapers laid on the ground. "And cheesecake after that, please?"

xxx

"Light!" Footsteps thundered up the stairs, and Light winced at the sound of a backpack and baseball bat being hurled at the wall as the ball of destruction hurtled through the house. "Light, you there?"

"Yeah!" Light hurriedly closed the Death Note, dropping his English textbook on it and minimizing the window on his computer screen. "What?"

The door banged open, crashing into the wall. "Do you know where the chips are?"

Light frowned, wheeling his chair back. "I just bought some more a few days ago," he said. "They should be in the cupboard."

"I mean _normal_ ones, not your weird spicy ones."

"Try going to the store yourself every once in a while," Light said, rolling his eyes. Sayu stuck her tongue out at him and the door banged shut again as she ran down the hall ("_Mom!_").

Light took a deep breath, moving the textbook. _That was close_. He ran a hand down the leathery cover, almost lovingly. "Can't let anyone else find out about this," he muttered, then frowned.

_What was I doing, again?_

He opening the book again, the pages he'd already covered with writing fluttering as he flipped them.

_Three hundred and fifteen_.

He opened the browser window on his computer again, fixing the man's image in his mind as he scratched a new name onto the page.

_Three hundred and sixteen_.

He ran a hand through his hair as he leaned back in the seat, looking at the neat columns of names. "Justice," he muttered, almost absent-mindedly.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he frowned, pulling it out. He cursed under his breath as he jumped to his feet.

_Hideko: My house in ten, right?_

_Yeah, on my way_. He typed out one-handed as he shoved his English books in his bag with the other. He turned around to leave the room, and was nearly hit in the face with the door.

"Oh, Light!" Sachiko said, taking a step back in surprise as Light teetered for a moment, looming over her as he regained his balance, which had been thrown off by his sudden stop. "Are you heading out?"

"Yeah," Light said, tucking his phone in his pocket. "I forgot, I was supposed to help a friend out with her English work –"

"Oh, do you want to bring her some apples?" Sachiko offered, holding up the bowl in her hands. "A neighbour sent them over earlier today, I was going to give you some as a snack before dinner –"

"Oh, shi –" Light cut himself off as Sachiko raised an eyebrow. "Uh, yeah, that'd be great," he said, grabbing the bowl and whirling around.

"Wait, don't you want me to put it in a plastic bag –"

Light slammed the door, rushing to his desk. _Almost forgot_. He mentally chided himself as he put the bowl of apples down on his bedside table, picking up the Death Note. He let out a sigh of relief as he opened it again, dragging a finger over the rows of names, almost reverently.

He ran a thumb over the corner of the page. _A tool_, he thought. _Completely under my control_.

_Mine. . ._

_Crunch_.

He whirled around, the notebook falling to the ground. _What in the world. . ?_ The bowl Sachiko had delivered the apples in was lying on the ground, empty. An apples core was rolling to a stop on the ground next to it, juices trailing across the hardwood floor. _What the hell? _He wrinkled his nose slightly, sniffing as he knelt to pick both up, the smell of decay filling his nostrils. _And what crawled under the floor and died?_

Light's eyes followed the trail of juiceto the foot of his bed, and came the closest he'd ever been to soiling himself since preschool.

A dark figure sat on his bed, red eyes glowing yellow, thin, sickly appendages spreading from his back. He grinned, yellowed fangs glinting in the lamplight.

Light let out a gargled scream, falling backwards, shoulder knocking into the desk with a painful _crash_. The lamp teetered, falling to the ground, bulb extinguishing as it was yanked from its cord, throwing the room into darkness.

"Light?" Sachiko asked, sounding concerned, from outside. "Light, what's happening?"

Light's heart was racing as he stared at the creature. It rose from his bed slowly, wings – _wings_ – unfurling further, casting intimidating shadows over him. The creature raised a clawed finger to his lips, smirking. _Quiet_.

Light took a deep breath. "Fine, mom!" he called, voice steady despite his trembling fingers. "Just fell."

"Okay, do you –"

"One minute!" Light called. He stood up slowly, eyes locked with the creature. It tilted its chin up, smirking lightly as Light stood.

"What are you?" Light asked quietly.

The creature raised an eyebrow, chuckling – a hoarse, raspy noise that sent chills down Light's spine. "I am the Shinigami, Ryuk," it held an arm in front of its abdomen, leaning down in a sweeping, mock bow. "At your service." He grinned, sharp teeth bared.

"A Shinigami," Light whispered, mind racing. His eyes darted to the Death Note on the ground between them. "The Death Note –"

"Bingo!" Ryuk bounced, spinning on the spot and pointing at Light. "That's my notebook you're using, there."

Light took a deep breath, gathering his wits. _Calm down. Calm down_. "Well, Ryuk." He smirked, flashing some of his trademark charm. "This isn't a shock. No – I've been expecting this."

Ryuk tilted his head, eyes flashing. "Oh?"

Light chuckled. "Of course," he said haughtily. Now that he'd gotten over the initial shock, he could see that the Shinigami was actually somewhat handsome – not a classic Romeo, no, not in a human sense, but nice enough to look at. His dark hair hung in strands over his forehead, and his lips were a deep, purple color, eyes red, ringed with red. His skin, however, was far from normal: a patchwork of pale, almost human-like skin, and other colors – blue. He wore a pair of leather pants, the material ragged but intact, and unbuttoned (thank goodness a human appearance wasn't the only thing he was lacking). Heavy rings sat on his mismatched, clawed fingers, and a bracelet of gleaming black beads hung on his right wrist.

"After all," Light continued calmly, kneeling to pick up the fallen notebook. "A notebook with the power to kill with just the movement of a pen? It'd be only natural that people would assume supernatural origins?"

The Shinigami's eyes flashed with amusement as he leaned against the wall, hooking his ankles together and sneering at Light. "Really." Without a moment of warning, he'd snatched the Death Note from between Light's fingers, dangling it in front of his face. "Well, Mr. I-Know-Everything," he said, flipping through the pages with abandon. "Several Death Notes have fallen to this world in the past, but you're the first who's written this many names." He held the notebook up in front of Light's face, and the teen leaned back to avoid ramming his nose into the pages. "I mean, just look at how many people you've already offed. In just three days, too. . ."

Light snatched the Death Note back from Ryuk. "Well, Shinigami?" he asked. "As interesting as this talk is, I highly doubt you're here to discuss politics. What are do you really want? The notebook back? My soul?"

Ryuk tossed his head back, letting out what Light could only assume was a laugh – a noise somewhere between hacking and the garbled, squeaking noise a rat would make when stepped on. "_Hyuk hyuk hyuk!_" Light wrinkled his nose, leaning back slightly as flecks of spittle, reeking of the same rotting smell that had filled the room with the Shinigami's arrival, flew through the air. "Your soul? Oh, that's a riot! Haven't heard that one in years!" He doubled over, still laughing. "Tell me, pretty boy, what would I want with a soul like yours? So weak-willed and fragile. . . if I really did want to bust out the ol' 'takin' of the soul' gig, I'd look for someone way better than yours."

Light scowled, shoving down his wounded pride. "Well, then, what are you here for?"

Ryuk shrugged, flopping down onto Light's bed, crossing his arms behind his head, kicking his feet, shod in pointy leather boots, made of the same material as his pants, falling apart at the seams, onto the bedspread. "Well, just doing my duty as your friendly neighbourhood Shinigami," he tilted his head, glancing at Light. "My duty as a death god is to keep an eye on the Death Note, make sure it doesn't get too out of hand." A wicked smirk spread across his face, turning the admittedly handsome face into something more twisted, grotesque, more otherworldly and sending an uncontrollable tremor through Light. "Of course, it looks like you've got that part down cold, haven't you?"

Light's eyes narrowed as he watched the Shinigami make himself comfortable on his bed (yeah, he was _definitely_ going to be doing laundry after this). "That's it?" he asked. "No dramatic speeches? No overexaggerated god stuff?"

Ryuk flipped onto his side, propping his head up on his hand, elbow resting on his duvet. "Well, what do you want me to say?"

Light leaned back against his desk, crossing his arms. "Why did you drop the Death Note, Ryuk?" he asked. "It couldn't have been a mistake – you're acting too smug for that, and I doubt you're the kind of god who just rolls with the flow and lets us mortals do whatever we like."

Ryuk raised an eyebrow. "Smarter than I gave you credit for," he muttered under his breath, and then, louder, "Wanna know why, genius? He stood (his wings had vanished when he'd lain down, drawn into his back and disappearing into his shoulder blades). "Because I was bored. That's why." He raised his hands slightly, glancing up at the ceiling. "Where I come from is just. . . a wasteland." He crinkled his nose, sticking his tongue (long, black, and pointed) out. "Disgusting. Nothing but bone and dust. But here. . ." he spread his arms, twirling in a small circle. "This is where it's _at!_ So much hustle and bustle. . . and, as you put it, _souls_." He sniggered.

"What about you, little killer?" he pointed at Light, tip of his nail (claw would be a better word) bare centimeters from his chest. "What're you killing for? You bored, too?"

Light raised an eyebrow, moving back to the Death Note, which he'd placed, open, on his desk. "Don't be ridiculous," he snapped. "This world is mundane, yes, but only a psycho'd kill out of boredom." He closed the book, running his hands down the cover. "This is for justice," he said, voice lowering, becoming soft, reverent.

Ryuk tilted his head. "Justice."

Light turned back. "You may not see it," he said. "from your cozy perch above, but this world is messed up. Murders, thefts, rapes. . . happening left and right, with nobody to stop it." He picked up the notebook, holding it near his chest. "This. . . it's much more than just a tool to bring you some entertainment, Ryuk. It's a _weapon_. The best damned one the world has ever seen, I bet. I can _use_ it!" his grip tightened. "_Help_ people! _Save the world!_"

Silence fell, and Light realized he was breathing heavily. Ryuk's eyes were fixed on him.

"Justice, you say?" he asked. "Well," he grinned, blackened lips pulling over pointed teeth. "If that's what you want to call it."

* * *

**IT'S FINALS WEEK, LADS.**

**(I think I failed Math, oops.)**


End file.
